


What goes around, comes around.

by Anarion



Series: Inevitable Outcome [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John Watson, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Slash, This is not a 221b, Yes I am shocked too, so many words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21323491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarion/pseuds/Anarion
Summary: John shot upright in bed, instantly awake and in fight-or-flight mode, but there was no attacker in the darkness of his bedroom. The scream came again, starting low and guttural and rising to an impressive pitch.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Inevitable Outcome [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1288586
Comments: 23
Kudos: 108





	What goes around, comes around.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AtlinMerrick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/gifts).

"No, no, NO! Not again!”

John shot upright in bed, instantly awake and in fight or flight mode, but there was no attacker in the darkness of his bedroom. The scream came again, starting low and guttural and rising to an impressive pitch.

John growled and rolled out of bed. He stomped down the stairs and was greeted by the sight of Sherlock stumbling into the living room in just pyjama pants, his hair wild, blinking at him.

“Is someone dying?”

The scream rolled through the room again.

“Someone is about to. I am going to fucking kill them! I am not even joking!”

That much was obvious. Rarely had Sherlock seen John that angry.  
The woman screamed again. He listened. Some form of martial arts _Kiai_? No. Someone giving birth? No. What then? Oh. OH!

“Our neighbour has a new girlfriend, then?”

“Every bloody night, for two goddamned weeks. You weren’t here, but they’ve woken me _every_ fucking night. I can’t take this anymore, Sherlock.”

Sherlock looked at John and he did look exhausted. The last time he had looked like that was after a two-week case that involved a kidnapped boy, explosives, the flooding of the Parliament and a ferret. (Both the boy and the ferret were fine in the end.) Sherlock tried to find something encouraging to say.

“Shouldn’t they be done soon?”

“Oh, no. _Nooo_. This goes on for 45 minutes!”

“That’s impressive.”

“It’s really not.”

John turned and walked towards the door. He was wearing nothing but his boxers. Sherlock tried to ignore that for the moment, which was not easy, what with the orgiastic screams and all.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going over there and I’m going to shout at them.”

“Has that worked in the past?”

“No. But I might feel better after.”

“You won’t.”

“You have a better idea? Because I’m fresh out.”

Sherlock coughed delicately and said, “I do, in fact, have a better idea.”

“You do? One that will genuinely make me feel better?”

Here Sherlock actually coughed, because he forgot to swallow and almost choked on his own spit.

“Um… yes?”

“Well? Out with it!”

“I suggest we scream back.”

Oh God, had he really just said that? Too late to take it back. He could blame sleep deprivation; he had been working the past two weeks after all. He focused back on John, who was clearly having trouble to follow that special Sherlock train of thought. No surprise there. What to do if John was not on board with the idea? Well, he might be?

“Excuse me?” He clearly was not. Nothing to do but to forge ahead! It was a reasonable idea. Wasn’t it?

“Pay them with their own coin. Give tit for tat. Pay them back in kind.”

“Did you just suggest that we have sex? To get back at the neighbours? Or am I misunderstanding due to lack of sleep?”

“No, that _is_ what I’m suggesting.”

“You want to have sex with me because you want to take revenge on our neighbours.”

“No. I want to have sex with you, period. I just never brought it up because you seemed not interested.”

“Let me get this straight. You think I don’t want to have sex with you in general, but I might be angry enough now to have sex with you nevertheless to get back at our noisy neighbours?”

“Which answer would more likely lead to success?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I, John.”

John took in his honest tone and stopped. He stopped speaking, he stopped pacing, he even stopped breathing for a moment. Then he exhaled and when he continued, his voice was soft.

“Then why did you never say anything?”

“Because you never showed any interest after that awkward first evening.”

“You shot me down very convincingly!”

“I was _on a case_! And then you hopped from woman to woman and I began to wonder if I misunderstood and maybe you didn’t actually ask.”

“Oh, I did ask! And I did want. God, have I wanted you.”

“I never saw. You hid it well.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with unwanted attention.”

“Well, now you know it’s not unwanted.”

After hearing that, John allowed himself to _look_ and he allowed that looking to be seen by Sherlock. He took in the pale skin, the strong arms, the flat stomach, the high cheekbones and the dark unruly hair and when looking wasn’t enough anymore, he stepped closer and _touched_. He put a hand on Sherlock’s sternum and ran it gently over his stomach until his hand came to rest on Sherlock’s right hip.

Sherlock shivered and goosebumps broke out all over his body. “John,” he whispered.

“Shh.”

“Did you just shush me? I thought the objective was to be loud?”

“Next time.”

“Next… there is going to be a next time?”

“Every fucking night, from today until I die, if you let me.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and allowed that idea to sink in. John waited patiently until the other man opened his eyes again and then moved in to gently press his lips to Sherlock’s. So engrossed were they in each other that they completely missed the final outburst (so to speak) from the flat next door.

There was no need to shout back anymore, and although John was going to shout himself hoarse more than once in the coming nights, the first time was quiet and gentle, I guess you could almost call it reverent.

***

The change in their relationship did not solve the problem of the screaming neighbour, but Sherlock offered to deal with that by arranging a quiet and terrifying visit by Mycroft although John was still very much in favour of the killing. “Between the two of us and Mycroft, we could probably come up with the perfect murder!” While Sherlock agreed with that, he did not harbour as much resentment as John did. He did not admit this to John, because he seemed to enjoy his righteous anger way too much.

They had to move into John’s bedroom after a week, because Mrs Hudson said the constant humping got on her nerves. I believe her exact words were, “I am a delicate flower and I need my sleep.” John blushed a pretty shade of red and Sherlock immediately wondered how far down he could make that blush go and devised a complex series of experiments on the subject matter, you know, for science.

Their neighbour next door moved out two months later. Apparently, when it wasn’t _his_ sexual partner doing the screaming, he was a delicate flower too.

**Author's Note:**

> So. The noisy neighbours I told you about? Yes, this is kinda thanks to them too. I couldn't sleep because of another party going on downstairs and I was _soooo_ angry. Atlin Merrick, brilliant woman that she is, suggested that I channel that anger into fic. I did. I wrote till long after the party finished. I wrote over 1000 words, which if you know me, you know that is A LOT!  
What can I say but this: Praise to the queen of enablement and encouragment! :D
> 
> Also, if any of you know a contract killer, please send them my way. *looks West*
> 
> .


End file.
